And here it is: the long-awaited official trailer of Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
Apparently in the US tickets are already no longer available online. Such is the compelling pull of mystery.
I can't wait for Christmas. I'll have to brush up on the entire Star Wars mythology though because it's been three or four years since I watched the films, all six films, in a single day, if I remember right. Or was it for a period of one week?
I picked up this nice little boardgame called Quoridor at an ukay-ukay store not too long ago. It was my lucky day; all the pieces were complete and intact, the board was clean and scratch-free, nary a fold on the included booklet. Usually, the boardgames you find at thrift stores have a few pieces missing, and you'll have to make do. This Quoridor game is as spanking new as new can be, and for such a steal.
Designed by Mirko Marchesi, Quoridor is basically a turn-based game where players race each other to get to the opposite side of the board. At each turn, you can do one of two things: either move your pawn one square at a time or erecting a wall. The trick is to thwart your opponent with your strategically placed walls. You can't lock your opponent, and you always have to keep a route to the other side of the board open for them. But you can make his or her journey as circuitous as possible, in the hopes that the lovely maze that eventually transforms over the course of the game doesn't hamper your own token.
Notice I said "lovely maze". Ever since I was a kid I've always been fascinated with mazes. In grade school, I'd painstakingly draw elaborate mazes on a piece of bond paper, the kind with portals that transport you back and forth both sides of the paper.
It must have been that entry about the word "labyrinth" in Webster's dictionary , and how in Greek mythology the grisly Minotaur was stationed there--why I'm so fond of mazes. (Further reading into how the Minotaur and the Labyrinth came to be will lead you into topics of betrayal and bestiality, but I digress.)
The original Labyrinth
Anyway, there was that Labyrinth game we used to play on Famicom, based on Jim Henson's movie, which up to now I still haven't watched. The game, too, I never did get to finish. And one other maze-related game I loved as a kid: the Crystal Maze!, which deserves a revival. Oh wait, they're doing that already.
But back to Quoridor, my new favorite offline game. The game that Gigamic produced is so beautifully crafted, from the dark slotted wooden board to the wooden walls to the four tokens, the whole thing is almost a work of art. Gigamic actually produces various other boardgames in luscious wood configurations. All of them are deviously simple and fun to play, and you can just leave them on the coffeetable like some incidental decor.
What's to love about Quoridor:
Easy enough for kids to be pitted against adults.
Takes about eight to ten minutes to play, so faster turnaround.
Requires a good mix of skill, strategy, and luck
Can be played by 4 players as well.
Online versions of Quoridor have cropped up, mostly using crappy animation. This is one of those games that is best played in the real world.
My favorite photograph thus far, courtesy of Ama la Vida TV last year. This would be the photo I'd send a photo to outer space for other intelligent life forms to find and know about our planet. How two unrelated and non-communicating creatures of Earth can help out each other, feeding on each other's tears and loneliness, or something equally romantic. In the animal kingdom, this act of sipping and feeding on tears is called lachryphagy. Moths are also notorious for this, even going as far as injecting their proboscis inside closed eyelids of birds. That looks nasty and invasive on a photograph so let's stick to butterflies and turtles.
Woke up at 2:30 AM today (Yes, 2:30 AM, we have a somewhat regular office job now, which takes up my time, which explains the infrequency of my blogging output these days). So anyway, what do we see on my tablet but a nifty interactive Google Doodle featuring Ultraman!
Turns out it's a tribute of sorts to Mr. Eiji Tsuburaya, the creator of Ultraman, whose many versions only the die-hard fans can keep track of. (Apparently there are more or less 38 Ultraman versions.)
Anyway, back to Tsuburaya-san. He's also head of special effects for many Japanese sci-fi films, especially when they involve wanton destruction of entire cities brought about by humongous monsters. How we loved that as a kid, seeing Ultraman battle it out with the monster of the week, them trampling boxy buildings and trees and power lines, complete with ensuing sparks, fire, smoke, and debris. The entire scenario always looked staged and fake despite the very best efforts of Tsuburaya's production team, but that's okay. Funny, we don't recall seeing long- and close-up shots of city folks fleeing in panic while a massive fight was going on above them.
So today's Google Doodle is a set of mini-games all that gets strung together into a monster film, whose horrific (or comedic) value depends on how you played each one out.
Two weeks ago we lost the silicon pad of our favorite AKG headset. The adhesive had worn off months ago, and we've repeatedly glued it back in place (both Elmer and Shelby were of no use), only to have it pop out when we least expect it. This time around, on the bus, the damn pad came loose, fell to the floor, and was nowhere to be found. The headset was a cheap one, just under a thousand bucks but we like it for the fact that it doesn't go all the way inside our ear canal, but sits right at the opening. And we didn't want to fall out of love with it just because of a missing silicon pad and an exposed metal. Thankfully AKG sells replacement parts, but you have to get them at their service center. We suppose we could have simply ask them to just deliver the pads to any of their concept stores, particularly at SM North EDSA, but we rather liked the idea of tracking down a couple of tiny rubbery silicon pads. We ended up in Topy's Place in Eastwood, specifically Calle Industria, so-called, we think, because it was a headquarters hub for several other companies. One thing we hate about going to Libis is that there's only one jeepney line servicing the area, and it's only via Cubao. Yes, there are cabs, but we're scared of riding cabs alone. So anyway, much walking and getting up and down flights of stairs, we finally found the place, which turned out to be just a ho-hum office building. There's a bunch of JBL, AKG, and Harman Kardon speakers stacked upon each other on the lobby, could be dead, could be newly refurbished, we couldn't tell. They looked so ordinary and stripped of their premium feel which they usually have when they're displayed in the showrooms. And to think these things cost a lot. The guy who took our order gave us a pair of the silicon pads, gray and smoky and translucent, and charged us 100 bucks for them. And we left, happy because it's good to know that in this age of disposable culture, there are some things for which you can still buy replacement parts. And we won't have to disown our headset after all, but we were left a little bewildered too because we travelled all the way to here for a couple of tiny things other normal folks can painlessly live without.
McDonald's archnemesis, the burger-stealing Hamburglar, has recently gone an extreme makeover. The new Hamburglar is all grown up, and not just that, but he's also now an actual human being. He even has a family, from whom he's been keeping his secret identity, kinda like Clark Kent.
This sexified (well look at that sexy unshaven look) Hamburglar is in line with McDonald's new sirloin third pound burgers. Premium means it can't be endorsed by just some punk donning a sweaty, big wobbly head cartoonish mascot. So they went for a sexy dad, a DILF even.
And yet we still don't know what McDonald's puts in their patties and fries and their fares. Plus, if you check the ingredients of their tomato ketchup, it's got high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). At least they're honest.